Impossible to know.
He reaches for his axe, slipping it into the holder at his back, before he tips his head a little, considering me for a long moment. “You won’t be able to get the protective coat back on now that we’re connected by the circlet.”
It takes me a moment to remember the overly large coat he dressed me in so he could carry me safely throughthe forge.
I can’t stop myself from tensing at the possibility that he’ll make me walk back through the forge without its protection.
“Don’t worry.” His voice remains flat. “There’s another way out. It won’t take us back to my eagle, but it will take us toward the Constellation, where Mother will be waiting.”
“Are you sure you want to go that way, brother?” Victor ventures. “I could cut an opening in the suit to allow for the chain.”
“I’m sure. This is the path we need to take.” Without further elaboration, Antony tugs on the chain and tells me, “Through here.”
He gestures to the room where Victor got the replacement armor.
Victor snags Antony’s arm before we can make it two steps in that direction.
“Brother.” His voice is suddenly hard. “The next time you meet the Ember King?—”
“Of course, Victor.” Antony’s reply is smooth. “The next time I see Maxim, I’ll kill him.”
Victor steps aside, but he darts forward and snags my arm, too.
Antony halts, glancing back.
I wait for Victor to speak, but his shoulders sink. All he does is give me a quiet nod, and then he releases me, allowing me to follow Antony through the internal door and into a second chamber.
Like the first room, countless drawings cover the walls, but this time, they depict the blade that’s inked into my skin. As for the workbenches, half are covered in pieces of metal and fine tools, while ancient-looking books are scattered over the others.
One book is open to a page with a finely detailed sketch of a woman, but I’m surprised to see that she’s gripping what looks like the Dragonstone Blade.
Her hair blows across her face, obscuring her features, but she wears a crown on her head.
The words ‘False Queen’ are scrawled across the side of the page.
Who is she?
And why is she pictured holding the blade? If, indeed, it is the Dragonstone Blade and not an unrelated dagger.
Also curious is the rough and seemingly unfinished sketch of what looks like a hammer at the base of the page. Its handle appears partly etched with runes, but the drawing ends halfway along, the handle unfinished.
When I glance again at the drawings on the wall, the ones of the Dragonstone Blade, I make out the same partially-drawn hammer on many of them.
I want to stop and ask questions.
I desperately need answers.
But Antony doesn’t break his stride, heading toward the door on the other side of the room, and I have no choice but to follow now that the gap between us can’t extend more than three paces.
The door swings open to reveal a dark, unlit corridor beyond. A single firebrand, also unlit, rests against the wall, but Antony ignores it, stepping into the gloom and letting the door close behind us.
As it slams shut, dropping us into darkness, he says, “That door gives my brother the illusion he can leave at any time.”
The chain tugs in the dark, propelling me to follow after him, and his voice sounds again. “If you stumble, I will carry you.”
It sounds like a warning, not an offer of help.
Clearly, he can see far better than I can in the dark.
